Mirandized
by lamentomori
Summary: "Step out of the car, sir." You tell him, and he shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "No. What d'you want?" He doesn't look up at you; instead, he keeps his eyes trained ahead of him. Warnings: 7Sins Continuity, 2nd person Colt PoV, Slash (Colt/Punk), Smut (object insertion, anal), Profanity.


_Warnings: 7Sins Continuity, 2nd person Colt PoV, Slash (Colt/Punk), Smut (object insertion, anal), Profanity._

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You approach the car and tap on the window. The driver glances up at you, frustration, annoyance and disgust mixing in his expression. You tap again on the glass.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Wait a minute." The driver mutters, winding it down, purposefully slow, it seems. "What d'you want, Officer?" He snaps, a scowl on his face, twisting his features into something unflatteringly ugly.

"Step out of the car, sir." You tell him, and he shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"No. What d'you want?" He doesn't look up at you; instead, he keeps his eyes trained ahead of him.

"Sir, please step out the vehicle." You repeat with a sigh, repetition can be so very dull after all. He scowls but does unbuckle his seat belt, and opens the car door. You step away to let him exit the vehicle, and close the door. Once, he's out, you spin him around and slap the cuffs around his wrists.

"Hey! What the hell?" He sneers at you, his eyes burning with anger. You lead him round to the front of the car, and bend him over the hood, pressing his cheek down against it. You plaster yourself along his back, your groin pressed firmly against his ass.

"This is a violation of my rights." He hisses, but his ass pushes back against you. You rock against him slightly, and a soft little moan escapes his lips.

"You have the right to remain silent." You murmur in his ear, and press a kiss to the skin behind it. His hips buck against your own, another soft moan escaping him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." His voice is still harsh and cold, his cuffed hands are trapped between your bodies, fingers wriggling and squirming seemingly with no goal in mind, other than to be mildly irritating.

"Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law." You murmur in his ear, his tongue flickers over his lips, the one eye you can see is slightly dazed. "Do you understand?" He nods, his tongue runs over his lips slower. "Do you understand?" You repeat, wanting verbal confirmation of his comprehension.

"Yes." He hisses, and squirms beneath you, his ass rubbing against your groin, drawing a low moan from your lips.

"You have the right to an attorney." He nods vaguely, bucking his hips again. "If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you." He almost writhes this time, his body fluidly moving beneath you, his fingers have settled on the goal of working their way under your shirt, to scratch at your belly. "Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" You ask him, lips brushing over his ear, he shivers, a soft moan escaping him.

"I understand." His voice is soft, panting almost, his eye glazing over slightly as he rocks back against you.

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?" You ask him, grinding down against his ass, drawing another soft moan from his lips.

"No... No talking." He moans quietly. "If I've done something wrong, fuck me, Officer. Put me in my place." His lips settle in a grin and you snort, stepping back from him. It appears as though he's the forward type.

"I don't believe that was one of the options, sir." You mutter in his ear, and move away slightly, one arm resting over his shoulders, keeping his cheek pressed against the hood of the car, the other opening your pants, drawing your cock out, jacking it slowly as you watch him writhe. "But, I think I'll make an exception." You smack his denim covered ass, and his movements stop, his breath catching in his throat. You smack him once more, and a soft little noise escapes him. You untie his pants one-handed, and tug them down roughly, snagging his boxers, leaving his ass bare. You grope the firm little ass you uncovered, squeezing each of his cheeks. He rocks his hips against your hand as much as he can, desperate little moans escaping him at the rough treatment.

"_Please_, Officer." His voice is quietly needy, high, almost whining. You snort dismissively, and pull a bottle of lube from your pocket. Opening it one-handed isn't easy, but you manage, and drizzle some of the viscous liquid down his crack, making him shiver again. You trail one finger through the lube, spreading the cool liquid between his cheeks, then slowly work one finger inside of him. He bucks back against you, driving your finger into him as deeply as he can. You pull it out but he thrusts back against it, not letting you withdraw your finger from him. You shake your head and work a second finger inside of him, scissoring them, stretching his ass open for the fucking he requested. He makes a soft little noise as your fingers brush his prostate. "More." He pants and you lean down over him again, your chest pressed against his back.

"Greedy, aren't you?" You chuckle, and almost roughly breach him with three fingers, he gives a reedy moan, and you chuckle at him again. You move your fingers in and out of his body quickly, fucking him with them hard and fast, his moans increase in frequency, but the volume stays low and soft.

"_Please_." He whines eventually, and you nip at his ear lobe, he tense beneath you, and his heel collides with your shin, you can't stop the smirk from forming on your face, that little action of his will require punishment, and you think you have just the idea.

"Stay." You warn him, and he nods slightly, spreads his legs further apart, his eyes closing. You smack his ass gently and tear open a condom, rolling it down the nightstick you unhooked from your belt. You plan for this stick is almost undoubtedly not what he was expecting when he said fuck me but delayed gratification is always that little bit better, and the idea's stuck with you now, so you've every intention of fucking him with the stick, then your cock. You coat the condom covered nightstick with lube carefully, watching him as he squirms slightly, his asshole barely visible between his firm cheeks. You line the stick up carefully, pressing it against his hole gently.

"You want this?" You ask him, your lips by his ear again, and he shakes his head.

"Cock." He gasps. "Want your cock." You laugh softly, lap behind his ear, the chuckle at the needy little noise he makes.

"Too bad." The stick breaches his body, and he moans, long and low, as you ease more of it inside of him, before pulling it back out, recoating it in more lube, and fucking it back into him slowly. His moans stay pitched low and soft, the sounds going straight to your cock, making it twitch in anticipation. You work a few inches more into him, wiggling the stick carefully from side to side inside of him, watching his hole stretch around it. His fingers clench as you fuck him faster with the stick, speeding up the thrusts into him, his knuckles growing white.

"Please, Officer." He pants and you pull the stick from him. You drop it to the ground, and grab the lube from the hood of the car. You pour some into your hand and palm your hard cock, spreading lube over the length.

"_Please_ what?" You sneer in his ear, the head of your cock brushes against his ass. He tries to buck back against you, tries to force your cock into him without aid, and you laugh at him, as he whines, desperation colouring the noise.

"Fuck me." He glances back at you, his cheek still pressed against the hood, the one eye you can see filled with undeniable lust. You snort in amusement and thrust into him without warning. He bucks beneath you, his breathing fast and shallow. You stroke his bared hips and wait for him to get himself together.

"Okay?" You murmur into his ear, he shivers slightly, and nods, you withdraw from him slowly, his body tight, reluctant to let you withdraw from him. You rock back into him, easing back inside carefully, your hands drawing his hips back towards you more than you moving forward into him. You keep this careful fucking up till he's pushing back against you, demanding more without words. You let your thrusts increase, fucking him more firmly. You fuck him just on the edge of too rough, thrusting powerfully into him, feeling your orgasm approaching far quicker than you'd fully anticipated. His trapped fingers are still scrabbling against your stomach, causing little scratching bursts of pain, that form a pleasant counter point to the pleasure building in you."Come for me." You pant in his ear, his eye cracks open, looking back at your hazily.

"Touch me." His voice is rough and low, you snake one hand around his hips, and take hold of his cock, jacking the firm flesh quickly, wrist twisting at the head, bringing his orgasm on quickly. You keep fucking him through his orgasm, your own following shortly, leaving your panting, your forehead resting between his shoulder blades. You stay still for a few seconds, enjoying the stillness of the aftermath of a good fuck, then withdraw from him and lean against the hood of his car.

"If this is where you tell me you've lost the fucking key for these things, I'm gonna kill you, Cabana." You laugh and grin over at Punk, still sprawled over the hood of the Monte, your cum slowly leaving his body. He looks dishevelled and well fucked, his attempted glare softened by something lazy and mellow.

"One key, Punkers." You tuck your cock back in your pants, and fish the key out from your pocket. "Although, you do look good in cuffs..." You trail off and spank him on the ass, causing him raise up on his toes.

"Off, now." He manages to sound at least halfway firm in his conviction, so you concede to him and remove the cuffs. The first thing he does is fix his pants, stepping away from the car with a scowl on his face. "I just washed this fucking thing." He mutters, wiping at the trail of his cum on the hood.

"When?" The car had looked pretty dirty, despite merely living in his garage, the Monte remains capable of attracting dirt from nowhere, like it was its special skill, even when stored inside, his piece of shit rust bucket is still filthy.

"Uh... Like a month ago, two maybe." He seems distracted, trying to clean the smeared cum off the paintwork.

"You wanna wash it?" You ask him, nudging his leg with your foot.

"Now?" He glances up at you, and yawns. "Later, you can help." He grins at you and you groan, car washing is not something you enjoy, though perhaps, you can make the rust bucket dirtier before cleaning it again. He snags the back of your neck and gives you a quick kiss. "Nap first, though." He smirks at you, and grabs you hand, dragging you into his house.

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**_Reviews are always good... So you know, leave one in the box! Thanksss_**

_Something you've always wanted someone to write for Punk and Cabana, or someone else even, lemme know and I take a stab at it. ;)_


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